


An Easier Death

by BlueBead



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Euthanasia, Gen, graphic depictions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBead/pseuds/BlueBead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Hyper Light Drifter Skype Group gave me a really soul-crushing writing prompt, so welcome to hell.</p>
    </blockquote>





	An Easier Death

**Author's Note:**

> The Hyper Light Drifter Skype Group gave me a really soul-crushing writing prompt, so welcome to hell.

Blood trickled down the Drifter’s leg as he lowered himself against a tree. He and the Guardian had gotten into a messy fight with several crystal golems at once, and they had gotten separated during the fight.

The blueskin clutched at his thigh where a fragment of crystal had been imbedded. He got as firm a grip on the shard as he could, inhaled sharply, and pulled. It took quite a lot of willpower to refrain from screaming. He bit his tongue hard, and blood dribbled down his lips. He was used to the taste of blood at this point, but he despised it all the same.

He clenched his teeth as he pressed the medpack injector to his arm and pressed the button on top. The mechanism plunged a needle through his skin and released regeneration fluid into his veins. A burning sensation climbed up his arm and crept through his chest before the painkiller began to take effect. He watched as the gash in his leg sewed itself together.

With shaky limbs, the Drifter limped and began to search for his comrade. He called out for them, but there was no response.

 

In his panicked mind, the Drifter had no awareness of the passing of time. For all he knew, he could have been searching for hours. Finally, he heard a sign of life; a distant cough.

He ran as fast and his pained leg would allow him to towards the source of the sound. He had expected to be ecstatic to be reunited with his partner, but his emotions were quickly overcome with despair when he laid eyes upon his friend.

“ _GUARDIAN!_ ” he wailed as he ran towards them, stumbling because of his leg’s protest.

The Guardian was folded over with a razor-sharp crystal protruding from their back. Fuchsia blood soaked their cape and dripped from the opening in their helmet. They feebly picked up their head to make eye contact with the Drifter.

“Wh-what happened?!” the Drifter stammered, “Nevermind, nevermind… Hold on, I… I could break the crystal and-“

“Don’t! Please…” the Guardian interjected. They lowered their head, no longer strong enough to keep it held up.

“But I can’t just… _leave_ you here!” he replied, “If I can get you freed… I could… An injection overdose would be risky, but it- it might-” This time his own choking sobs interrupted him. He placed his hands delicately on the sides of the Guardian’s head, gently raising their face to meet his. “Please tell me what to do…”

The Guardian paused. Their expression filled with anguish, but not because of the pain. “Nothing,” they stated bluntly, “I can’t move my legs. I can’t even _feel_ my legs… Drifter, this is not something medpacks will fix.” Their body shuddered in a fit of coughing, and their eye scrunched shut as the movement caused the crystal to tear at their flesh even more. Fresh blood gushed down their back.

The Drifter sat with them for a while, at a complete loss of what to do. He cried until he could barely breathe and his eyes and throat felt raw.

Eventually, the Guardian spoke up, “…There is something you can do.”

The Drifter perked up immediately, “Of course! I’ll do anything!”

“…Give me an easier death.”

The Drifter froze up. Those words were so far out of the realm of his comprehension that they didn’t even make him feel anything. “… _What_ …?”

“Drifter…” the Guardian began, “Even if you could somehow get me home, I’m never going to walk again. I’ll never be able to fight again, or to travel again, or… or to help anyone again… That’s not a life I want to live, Drifter.”

The Drifter’s tears began rolling down his cheeks again, even harder this time. “But you’re wrong! You could still help me. You could…” He struggled to think of possibilities. His face contorted with anguish. “You’re my friend. I need you. Please, just… let me be selfish…”

The silence resumed. The Guardian’s body began to go slack as their life began to slip away from them.

Without a word, the Drifter rose to his knees. He gingerly removed the Guardian’s helmet, but they only seemed dully aware of this. Their eyes looked through him.

The Drifter faltered before pulling out his pistol and aiming. He so badly wanted to close his eyes or look away, but he could not tear his gaze away from his companion’s vacant expression.

He squeezed his trigger finger.


End file.
